


Salvation

by Narnvaeron



Category: Pilgrimage (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Blood and Injury, F/M, Heavy Angst, Human/Vampire Relationship, Reader-Insert, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:22:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26716699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narnvaeron/pseuds/Narnvaeron
Summary: Inspired by the prompt: “You’re staring like you’ve never seen a vampire before.”
Relationships: Raymond De Merville/Reader
Kudos: 2





	Salvation

Death left the bitter taste at the back of your tongue and the heavy sensation in your throbbing head. Once you believed that it would be painless, simple as falling asleep after a long day, but the reality surprised you in a way you would never expect it to. There was no floating, no bliss, no memories in front of your eyes—instead, you found the bloodcurdling fear in your veins and suffering in your mind. Perhaps death could be peaceful but contrary to that, life never was and this single thought proved you that you were, indeed, still alive.

You could barely feel your body, limbs still numb and muscles stiff after too much exhaustion. You were trapped inside of your own brain and although your thoughts were becoming clear as a day, you could not open your eyes yet, as if the flesh was a completely separate part of your entity, the one you had no control of. There was so many sounds caught in your ears, many of them unrecognizable and reaching you from afar—the dreadful melody played from behind the milky glass. You did not regret that in the slightest, now perfectly aware of your surrounding even though you could not see it, the sight being too much for you to comprehend.

Just like the reason for this battle and slaughter of thousands of lives remained a mystery. In the name of glory; for God, for country, for themselves, it was all but an empty words, you realized while laying on the muddy ground with the taste of earth and blood in your mouth. Surely, there was a sky above, the endless blue and distant stars but in that moment it mattered no more than a single stone thrown onto the field of grass to soon be forgotten by people, world and the time itself.

You felt no different.

With a heavy heart, you understood that you must have gotten hurt during the battle, most likely hit in the head which caused the lost of consciousness—and possibly saved your life. You were already so tired when the sun was high up, the sword in your hand apparently gaining weight with every next move of your arm, the ground under your feet too wet to keep the balance and all your honour left behind when you were desperately fighting for your life. None of the great promises mattered once you looked death in the eyes.

Awakening has left you dizzy and puzzled, and when you could finally open your eyes, slowly sit up and take off the helmet, you noticed the red sun hidden behind the horizon already. The sunset was breathtaking that day, an image worth immortalizing on the canvas and ironically you wished to forget it completely and erase from your memory forever. It reminded you of a countless bodies laying all around you, armours scattered, blood spilled and heart broken.

The ones who managed to live must have gone long ago, taking the weapons which could be useful again and leaving the rest behind, for you could not spot any moving figure in your eyesight. None, except for one person, the man wandering slowly between the corpses. Considering the distance, it was hard to tell which side was he on, nevertheless you decided to stand on your legs, wondering where would this odd encounter lead you.

The embrace of death did not sound so bad, after all, and for a while you found yourself longing to see the enemy’s colours on him.

He approached you lazily and as the twilight began to swallow the field, you were surprised to see the blood staining his face in an unusual manner. Dried crimson dirtied his lips and chin, rested in the stubble and reached the collar of his torn shirt, hidden under the steel plate of armour. His eyes, however, remained unusually bright, shining even with the dark passion you could not understand.

“You are alive,” the stranger stated the obvious.

There was something grotesque about him, something you could not call. Could it be the aura of raw power surrounding him or the sheer confidence radiating from every inch of his body, whatever it was, it made you stand your ground firmly, unable to move. If you wanted to fight him, it was now too late for he seemed to hold you tightly in his grasp already.

“You are staring like you have never seen a vampire before.”

Despite the humorous sentence, there was no hint of amusement in his expression—on the contrary, he remained stoic and suddenly you felt yourself growing smaller under his gaze. There was only you and him and the thousands of dead people around.

It made sense, when you thought about it then, the vampire wandering through the fields of misery like a forgotten ghost, feeding on those who managed to survive the battle and draining them of blood completely, robbing them of the last ounces of pride. You were to follow them soon.

The vampire reached to you so quickly that your eye could not catch the movement, and only the harsh feeling of the leather glove closing around your throat, threatening to squeeze, triggered your fear and primal instinct to defend your life.

“You are the last one,” he murmured, closing the distance, so you could see the tips of his sharp fangs showing when he spoke. “And a woman. How peculiar…”

Your sword was still laying in the mud, out of your reach.

“I could be merciful and make your end painless,” he continued, his voice low and hoarse and the hold on your throat no less strong. “I could even spare you or make you become one of my kind. Devoted servant bound to me for all the eternity.”

As if his own words were somehow ecstatic, the vampire leaned to you, brushing his bloodied cheek over yours and barely tasting the drop of blood from your temple before humming with approval.

“It does sound quite tempting, I have to admit, however…” His whisper ghosted over your ear, the thumb finding your larynx and circulating it. “I suppose I would rather devour you whole.”

Apparently, you were right from the very beginning—death truly did left a bitter taste at the back of your tongue, when you choked on your own, warm blood, your throat torn with the pair of sharp fangs and the scream dying on your lips.


End file.
